


Do Androids Dream of Dick?

by Cinaed



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Anal Sex, Androids, First Time, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, M/M, Robot Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 15:19:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kennex would like to state for the record, even in the privacy of his own mind, that before Dorian became his partner, fucking synthetics was not on his list of sexual fantasies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Androids Dream of Dick?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StripySock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StripySock/gifts).



> Hope you enjoy, Stripy! 
> 
> Thanks go out to sath for reading this over for me. 
> 
> The title is wholly the fault of my weird brain, which came up with "Do Androids Dream of Sex?" and then [this came up on my Tumblr dash](http://cinaed.tumblr.com/post/71453621335/mehlsbells-slow-riot-asking-the-tough) and I decided it was fate. ...I apologize to Philip K. Dick.
> 
> (Another title that was considered but ultimately rejected was "Spoiler Alert: The Robot Falls in Love.")

Kennex would like to state for the record, even in the privacy of his own mind, that before Dorian became his partner, fucking synthetics was not on his list of sexual fantasies. It was only the Ken doll parts incident and then Dorian pulling himself out to prove to Kennex that he was a real boy in all the ways that mattered that had even put the thought into Kennex's head.

Dorian hadn't helped, though, with his over-sharing and his smug, weird-ass remarks when Kennex had been justifiably surprised by his size. And what had been that crack about what Dorian could do with it? Surely the powers that be hadn't designed him to be able to actually use his dick and fuck someone.

But maybe they had, maybe the sickos had decided to put in pleasure receptors to make the DRNs even closer to human. They'd left off the pain receptors for obvious reasons, because a synthetic who was slowed down by pain would be pretty useless, but maybe Dorian could jerk himself off when he got curious or bored.

And that was the thought that kept creeping into Kennex's brain at the worst possible moments: the idea of Dorian's hand wrapped around his dick, his expression thoughtful as he tested out his pleasure receptors.

It was distracting and inappropriate. Like now, as they crouched behind a burning car, Dorian's hand on Kennex's shoulder, holding him still.

"The sniper is on the roof," Dorian said. Familiar blue lines spread across his skin. The glow made Kennex's eyes hurt. Was there a way to ask Dorian to dim the light without sounding like an asshole? It was a relief when the blue lines vanished and Dorian said, "I've requested back up and sent a description of the sniper. ETA is two minutes. We just need to stay here."

"Right, so no stupid heroics today," Kennex said, and caught the slurred stupidness of his voice too late.

Dorian focused suddenly on him, the blue glow hurting Kennex's eyes again. He frowned. "You hit your head earlier. You have a concussion."

"Yeah, well, I've got a hard head. I'll live." Kennex hunkered a little closer to the pavement as the sniper fired again over their heads. "This guy sure likes to waste bullets." He flinched a little as Dorian's hand smoothed over his scalp. He caught his breath at the feel of Dorian's fingers running through his hair, pressing lightly against his skin. He tried to twist away. "Aw, come on, not with the touchy-feely stuff--" He hissed as Dorian's fingers pressed against where his head ached the most.

"We need to get you to the hospital. It doesn’t look like you’re bleeding internally, but you need a scan."

"I told you, I'm f--" He stopped and stared as Dorian pulled his gun, stood, aimed and fired. A second later there was a loud crash and a sickening thump that was way too familiar after years on the force. "Dorian. Did you just kill the sniper?"

"Yes. And now I'm getting you to the nearest hospital."

"Right," Kennex said, and didn't stare at Dorian's hands as he holstered his gun.

 

* * *

* * *

 

“Great. Now you’re gonna play nursemaid, is that it?” Kennex groused as Dorian followed him into his house. “The doctors said it was a very minor concussion. I’ll be fine.”

Dorian looked unmoved by Kennex’s words. “Even minor concussions can be potentially life-threatening.” He folded his arms against his chest, giving off the impression that he was quite willing to stand in the middle of Kennex’s living room until Kennex gave up. “The doctor also said you should take some aspirin and try to rest.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kennex scowled, remembering how quickly Maldonado had put him on two-day medical leave. What was he supposed to do for two days? Actually rest? He snorted. “Well, I hope you like basketball, because I plan to watch a game.”

Dorian tilted his head a little. “Interesting. I wouldn’t have figured you for a basketball fan.”

Kennex stared at Dorian. “What? Don’t tell me you think I’m a baseball fan.”

“I was thinking hockey.”

Kennex’s mouth twitched despite his better judgement, since smiling only encouraged Dorian. “Let me guess, you thought the gratuitous violence would appeal.”

“Something like that,” Dorian said, smiling back.

Kennex grabbed a beer from the fridge. He turned and rolled his eyes at Dorian’s reproachful look. “Come on. I’m taking ibuprofen, beer won’t kill me.” When Dorian’s expression veered towards a kicked-puppy look, Kennex sighed. “Jesus. Fine.” He switched the beer for root beer, dry-swallowed two ibuprofen, and stomped his way over to the couch, feeling like a five-year-old with an overzealous babysitter.

A few seconds later, the couch shifted a little, sinking under Dorian’s weight as he joined Kennex.

Kennex eyed him. “Don’t you need to recharge tonight?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Kennex frowned at the small smile Dorian wore, like Kennex was joking around. “If you say so. I just don’t want to have to drag you back to the precinct if your batteries get low.” He looked around for the remote, trying to remember where he’d left it.

Dorian looked even more amused. “Thank you for your concern, John, but I’ll be fine.” He squinted at the television; his face glowed blue, and a few seconds and several channel jumps later, he and Kennex were watching the game.

Kennex drank his root beer, but he couldn’t relax. Dorian was on his couch, watching his television, sitting close enough that Kennex could feel the warmth of his body, the heat not really any different than that of a human body.

No, Kennex would have to touch Dorian’s bare skin to notice the difference, the minute shifts in texture that the scientists had never fixed. He remembered the feel of Dorian’s fingers through his hair, and gritted his teeth in irritation at his own brain turning against him.

He gulped down some of his root beer, tried to focus on the game, but it was a lost cause. Instead his brain kept circling the thought of what those scientists had been thinking when they’d built Dorian and given him those proportions-- the big hands, big frame, big dick. Had it been someone’s fantasy? Were they hoping they would get at least one of the DRN models to take them on a desk and put that dick to use?

“John? Are you all right?”

Kennex licked his lips, glanced over to see Dorian staring at him with a furrowed brow. There was something in that searching gaze that made Kennex want to place the root beer can between his legs like some horny teenager hiding his hard-on. He cleared his throat. “I’m fine. And you promised no scanning without my permission.”

“I am not scanning you,” Dorian said. He looked almost offended by the suggestion. “But your cheeks are flushed, and I bet your temperature would be elevated if I did scan you. If you’re starting to feel strange, we should go back to the--”

“It’s not my concussion, it’s my stupid brain,” Kennex muttered before he could think better of it.

Dorian blinked at him, and it was such a human, baffled reaction that a strangled laugh escaped Kennex’s throat. “John, you do realize having a concussion means your brain’s been damaged, don’t you?”

“That’s not what I meant, I just--” Kennex slouched against the couch, frustration and arousal clawing at his gut until he drank the last of the root beer just to have his stomach feel full. He crumpled the can in his fist and tossed it into the nearby trash can. “Forget it.”

“John, if you need to--”

“Just drop it, Dorian. You don’t want to know.” The combination of frustration and his concussion made his head ache. He rubbed at his eyes. “I’m not going to drop dead. Relax. Can we just watch the game?”

Dorian didn’t say anything. When Kennex opened his eyes, Dorian was staring at him, his mouth hanging slightly open in surprise, his eyes wide.

“What?” Kennex said. “What?” Suspicion made him straighten and glare. “Jesus Christ, Dorian, did you scan me? You said you wouldn’t do that anymore!”

“I was worried for your health,” Dorian said slowly. Considering he’d looked offended a second ago at the suggestion he’d scan Kennex without permission, now he looked completely unapologetic about it. Some of the surprise was replaced by speculation, an expression that made Kennex’s eyes narrow even more.

“What?”

“It’s just that I didn’t realize you were interested in me in that way, John. I’m flattered--”

“Hey, no. No. We’re not doing this,” Kennex growled. He hated how his dick had, instead of wilting with embarrassment, decided to get interested in the conversation. He folded his arms against his chest and scowled. “We are not having this conversation. Besides, you’re the one who showed me your dick. If that’s not some sort of weird android come-on, I’ll eat my badge-- _Jesus Christ_.”

His breath left him in one explosive rush as Dorian palmed Kennex’s dick through his jeans. He banged his head against the back of the couch, a groan catching in his throat as Dorian stroked him again, slowly, his expression still thoughtful.

Kennex tried to catch his breath and ask what Dorian thought he was doing, but every time he got his breathing under control, Dorian stroked him again. “Dorian,” he finally got out even as he gave up on any plausible deniability and thrust into Dorian’s grip, his hands scrabbling for purchase on the couch.

“Yes, John?”

It was difficult to think with Dorian’s hand still between his legs, but Kennex took in a breath. The irritation at Dorian’s calm tone helped a little to clear his mind. He looked at Dorian, who was smiling slightly, and tried to remember everything Dorian and Rudy had told him about DRNs over the past few months. All he kept thinking about, though, was when Dorian had woken up that first day, how Dorian had looked at him and smiled.

“Hey,” Kennex managed at last. The words scratched his throat. “You know I won’t actually die of blue balls, right?”

Dorian’s smile turned confused. “Yes, though I don’t--”

“So you don’t have to do this.”

Dorian looked at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he shook his head, another little grin stealing upon his face. “John. Do you remember the main difference between DRNs and MXs?”

“Sure, that MXs are soulless synthetic assholes and you’re not. What does--”

“No, that I have free will and they don’t,” Dorian said patiently. “John, did you tell me to touch you?”

“Well, no, but--”

“So no command. Maybe you think that I inferred you wanted this and felt obligated to touch you. John, do I usually do things I hate?”

Kennex was beginning to suspect that Dorian’s patient voice was actually Dorian’s ‘I am trying not to laugh at you’ voice. He frowned. “Not really, but--”

The wrinkles at the corners of Dorian’s eyes deepened as he grinned. “I appreciate the concern about my autonomy, but when I do this--” Here he paused and elaborated by stroking Kennex again, surprising a moan out of Kennex. “--it’s because I want to.”

Kennex’s brain felt like it was going to explode, considering Dorian’s potential sexual fantasies, that Dorian wanted this. Had the idea crept into Dorian’s brain after the Ken doll discussion the way it had for Kennex? He licked his lips, resisting the urge to just skip the rest of the awkward conversation and start rubbing himself against Dorian’s hand.

“Right,” he said. “Can’t blame a guy for double-checking.” He licked his lips again. “So, uh, were you just planning on touching me, or--”

Dorian grinned at him, his expression filled with mischief. “Why? Do you have a suggestion?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Kennex said, but his lips twitched, and a low, incredulous laugh escaped him as Dorian looked thoughtful and said, “I’ll take that under advisement.”

“Jesus.” Kennex gave up and rubbed himself against Dorian’s hand. “You are such a smug asshole, you know that, right? The D in DRN secretly stands for dick--” His voice cracked on the last word as Dorian’s free hand unbuttoned his jeans and slid into his boxers.

Dorian’s hand was warm, the synthetic feel of the skin barely noticeable as he ran his hand up Kennex’s erection. He rubbed his fingers lightly over Kennex’s balls, smiled smugly as Kennex swore and thumped his head against the back of the couch.

The next few minutes narrowed down to three sensations: the feel of Dorian’s hand on his dick, the impression of the leather couch under Kennex’s hands, the weight of Dorian’s gaze upon Kennex’s features like he was committing every flicker of pleasure that crossed Kennex’s face to memory.

He came, cursing a blue streak, his hand clamping tightly on Dorian’s wrist, warm wetness spreading across his thighs. Then he slumped against the couch, belatedly realizing that at some point Dorian had turned off the television. He grinned up at Dorian, temporarily filled with goodwill for the entire universe. “Give me a second, and I’ll return the favor.”

Dorian’s hands resettled on Kennex’s hips. “Actually, I wanted to try something else.”

“Yeah?” Kennex tried to think through his post-orgasm haze, but his imagination stalled out on picturing Dorian’s erection. How did Dorian get a hard-on? Had his perverted designers actually equipped him with synthetic jizz? Did it glow blue? He shook his head, made a little face at himself, and then asked before Dorian could comment on his grimace, “Like what?”  

“I have been doing some research, and--”

“Research! You’ve been watching porn?” Kennex had to laugh at that even as Dorian frowned at the interruption. He repressed another laugh, trying not to kill the mood. “Remind me to ask you to share. I bet you found some good stuff.”

Dorian ignored the comment. “I have been doing some research, and I want....” He paused, frustration flashing across his face. “In the movies, they didn’t actually talk about what they did,” he said, almost a complaint. “They just did it.”

Kennex swallowed down a laugh at Dorian’s irritation. “Yeah, well, porn isn’t exactly realistic that way. But if you don’t want to talk about it, you can just show me-- _jesus_.” He almost fell off the couch at the feel of Dorian’s finger tracing over his balls and then dipping into the crease, his intention and desire clear. Kennex’s mouth went dry, thinking about it, remembering his brief view of Dorian’s dick. He imagined Dorian fucking him, thought about _Dorian_  imagining fucking him. It took a second to gather enough breath to speak. “I’ve got some lube in my bedroom. Unless you, uh, don’t need any, uh….” He stopped, because asking Dorian if he had blue synthetic jizz would probably make Dorian laugh the rest of the night instead of fuck him.

Dorian looked amused. “John, do I want to know what’s going on in your head right now?”

“Probably not,” Kennex admitted. He rubbed himself a little against Dorian’s finger. “Now, come on. Just pretend not to notice the clothes on the floor.”

“You know, most people would make an effort to clean their room,” Dorian said as Kennex got up off the couch. “To show consideration for their respective partners--”

“Yeah, well,” Kennex said, and flipped him the bird.

He tugged off his shirt and kicked off his shoes as he walked into the bedroom, leaving a messy trail behind him that made Dorian raise an eyebrow. He peeled off his boxers and dropped it on the ground next to his bed. He looked down at his synthetic leg, felt his lips twitch briefly in something that wasn't quite a smile. Still, it was hard to be self-conscious about his leg when it was Dorian who stood there, watching him. 

When he had the tube of lube in his hand, he turned to find Dorian had taken the opportunity to undress. Kennex stared, looking at the smooth skin and the synthetic muscle, and then lowering his gaze. Well, that answered a few questions Kennex had been wondering about, and one that Kennex hadn’t even thought to ask. Dorian could definitely get hard, there was no weird blue glow, there didn’t seem to be any sign of blue jizz, and apparently his designers had settled for a circumcised look.

Kennex was clenching the tube so tightly that his knuckles were white, he realized. He forced himself to relax. Then he tossed the tube at Dorian, who caught it easily and regarded him with slow, considering look that made Kennex a little dizzy.

“Lay down on your stomach,” Dorian said.

The quiet words were a suggestion, but Kennex took them like an order, practically throwing himself on the bed. He was tense with anticipation, listening to the sound of Dorian opening the tube. Even though Dorian hadn’t made any more suggestions, Kennex propped himself up on one elbow and turned to watch Dorian spread the lube over his fingers.

Kennex took the opportunity to stare some more at Dorian’s dick, gawking a little at the sight of it like he had in the car, though now the astonishment was mixed with a healthy appreciation. “Jesus,” he said before he could bite back the sound.

Dorian’s hand paused for a second before it resumed slicking more lube on his fingers. Then he approached the bed.

Kennex resettled on the bed and tried to relax. It had been a while. He had bought the lube during those first few months after he’d woken up, mostly out of ridiculous optimism and hoping to distract himself from how shitty his life had become.

Dorian’s finger pressed in, a slow, stretching burn that skirted the edge of discomfort before Dorian pressed more firmly and a wave of pleasure moved up Kennex’s spine, banishing any thoughts but the one that was how good this felt. He groaned a little, arched against Dorian’s finger.

“You like that,” Dorian said, thoughtfully, and Kennex laughed hoarsely, gasped, “Yeah, Mr. Obvious. Did you want color commentary too?” Dorian answered him with a twist of his finger and Kennex swore.

Dorian stretched him out slowly, taking his time, like he really was memorizing every hitch in Kennex’s breath and which angles worked to wrench a groan from Kennex’s mouth. The press of Dorian’s fingers drove everything out of Kennex’s head until he could only clutch at the covers and swear.

“Turn over,” Dorian said, and then his fingers slid out of Kennex.

Kennex clenched his teeth and swallowed back his automatic protest. He was hard again, his erection pressed against the rough covers. For a second he couldn’t understand the request, much less obey it. He rolled over to find that at some point Dorian had spread the lube over his dick as well.

Before, Kennex had kept his fantasies to the idea of Dorian masturbating and not let himself consider much else. That had been a major failure of imagination on his part, Kennex thought, though he didn’t think he would have imagined this, bending his leg a little before Dorian could ask, shuddering as Dorian’s hands settled upon his knee and one hip.

Dorian slid into him, an impossibly slow movement of his hips that seemed to never end, filling Kennex until the sensation was almost too much. Dorian paused; one hand stroked over Kennex’s hip. “Breathe,” he suggested, and Kennex realized he’d been holding his breath.

He let it out in a rush, dizzy, and opened one eye in time to catch Dorian looking pleased with himself. A rueful laugh scraped its way out of his throat. “Shut up.”  

Dorian grinned, but obeyed. He fucked Kennex unhurriedly, like they had all the time in the world.

The slow build of pleasure, the steady movement of Dorian’s hips-- it all drove Kennex half-crazy. Impatience made him wrap his bent leg around Dorian’s waist, curl one arm around Dorian’s neck and drag him closer until Kennex’s erection pressed against Dorian’s stomach. Jesus, the designers had even remembered to mimic a heartbeat, Kennex found when he pressed his lips to Dorian’s throat and felt the quick pulse.

He mouthed at Dorian’s neck, muttered, “I’m not going to break, come on,” bit at his mouth until Dorian kissed him back. He groaned in a mixture of relief and anticipation as Dorian tightened his grasp on his hip and fucked him harder, short, quick thursts that made the bed shake underneath them.

Kennex came again, this time the pleasure almost painful. He pressed his face against Dorian’s shoulder and muffled his curses there as he struggled to catch his breath. Dorian didn’t sweat, not even for this, his skin smooth and dry against Kennex’s cheek.

When Dorian slid out of him, Kennex collapsed on the bed, ignoring the twinging protest from his body at the gesture. He loosened his grip on Dorian’s neck, stretched out on the covers and watched with heavy eyes as Dorian grabbed the box of tissues from the table and wiped Kennex clean, his touch light and gentle on Kennex’s cock.

Dorian’s dick was soft again, though Kennex didn’t think Dorian had come, with or without synthetic jizz. And come to think of it, Dorian hadn’t really ever answered the question about what he could do with his dick. Kennex opened his mouth to ask, yawned instead. Oh well, he could figure out logistics later.

Dorian looked at him for a second, that smug smile creeping back into his face. He smoothed a hand over Kennex’s forehead, careful to avoid the bruise, and said, “You should sleep.”

“That’s the plan,” Kennex managed to say, and tried to pat the space next to him. It was more of a vague hand wave than anything else, but Dorian seemed to understand the gesture, raising an eyebrow and saying, “I only sleep in the--”

“Yeah, yeah, your pod thing, but I don’t kick anyone out of bed. Come on. I promise I’m not a cuddler.”

“I don’t think I believe you,” Dorian said with an amused twitch of his lips, but he laid down next to Kennex, one hand resting lightly on Kennex’s stomach, his lips tickling Kennex’s ear as he said, “Don’t worry, John. I won’t tell anyone you’re a cuddler.”

“Fuck you,” Kennex said, too pleasantly wrecked to muster up much heat in his voice. The bed shook a little at Dorian’s laughter. Kennex grinned a little, yawned again. “Wake me up at 7. That’s when I like to go for a run.”

Somehow he could hear the frown in Dorian’s voice. “You shouldn’t go for a run with a concussion.” He paused, and then said, slowly, like the thought hadn’t occurred to him until now, “You also probably shouldn’t have had sex with a concussion.”

Kennex laughed a little and reached out to pat Dorian’s shoulder, fighting back another yawn. “I told you, I’ve got a hard head. I’ll be fine.”

Dorian didn’t say anything, but his shoulder relaxed under Kennex’s touch. “Goodnight, John.”

“Goodnight,” Kennex said, and fell asleep to the feel of Dorian’s gentle hand on his stomach and his breath warm against his cheek.

 

 

 


End file.
